TGIF 2/5/21

What's on tap in today's good week - bad week recap? It's kind of a mixed bag, I'd say. 

Last night, or maybe it was early this morning, the plan to increase the federal minimum wage to $15 that had been included in the Biden administration COVID relief plan was scrapped by the Senate. It happened via voice vote after Iowa's Sen. Joni Ernst (of the 'make them squeal' campaign commercial) put forward a proposal to hold off any increases during the pandemic. That Guy from Vermont, Sen. Bernie Sanders, was OK with the vote, saying he had never sought to raise it during the pandemic anyway. This will undoubtedly make progressives unhappy, which is a hit for the Biden team, but to me it makes sense. 

We got some jobs numbers this week. First, we learned that there were 779,000 new unemployment claims  filed  last week, below projections and more than 30K fewer than the week before, and the lowest week since November. There are now 17.8M people collecting benefits. We also learned that the economy added 49,000 jobs in January, and that the unemployment rate fell to 6.3%, a four-tenths-of-a-percent decrease. These numbers are always tough, and a decoder ring is often necessary to figure out whether it's good news or bad news. I'm choosing to think it's better than bad, and better than December, but less than stellar. 

In the 'who's suing who?' category this week, we've got voting machine technology company Smartmatic dropping a $2.7B lawsuit on Fox News, squawkers Lou Dobbs, Maria "I used to be a respected reporter" Bartiromo, and Judge Jeanine Pirro, as well as Rudy Giuliani and Sidney Powell. Like the Dominion Voting Systems lawsuit (but twice as big), it's all about defamation and lies and unbridled support and promotion of twice impeached former president Donald Trump's claims about the 'stolen' 2020 election. Good week for Smartmatic, maybe, but surely not for the rest of them.

Let's see, what else... Oh, this was eye-opening, and worth giving some attention. Minnesota Rep. Dean Phillips took to the floor of the House to apologize to people of color - his colleagues, and everyone else - for never really having understood white privilege until the attack on the Capitol last month. I know, that sounds kind of odd, but I encourage you to spend fewer than two minutes listening to what he said, and as much time as needed to contemplate what he said, and to check your own understanding of white privilege.

Moving on to some indisputably good news, how about the ten-year-old Rhode Island boy who, with help from a friend, cleared snow off some 70 cars in the parking lot of the local hospital - because the folks who work there are helping people, so why not help them? Why not, indeed?

Or, how about the 92-year-old Vassar alum who has written her first novella? Sue (Fruchtbaum) Buyer entered college during the polio epidemic, spent her first year in quarantine, and later, after attending journalism school, spent 25 years at the Buffalo News. She started writing after giving up skiing - at age 85!

And, since it's Super Bowl Weekend, I want to leave you with a funny commercial, courtesy of T-Mobile and former-now-current teammates Rob Gronkowski and the GOAT, Tom Brady, 'explaining' how Brady (and Gronk) came to play for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

Now, before you get all snarky with me, I'm a Joe Montana fan from way, way back and the Niners are still 'my' team. Last year, they lost to that Mahomes kid and the KC Chiefs, after being outscored 21-0 in the 4th quarter. There's no way I'm going to root for them, no matter who they were playing! 

I d0 have a soft spot for Brady - long story - and I've got to say, I'm incredibly impressed that he's going to be playing in his 10th Super Bowl, and with a whole new team. Sunday, we've got two great quarterbacks, one old enough to be the other one's dad. I'm rooting for the old guy, I am - and for a game as good as this one looks like it could be. We can talk on Monday and see if I'm smiling or not.

TGIF, everyone - hope your week was a good one!

My Middle-aged White Lady Perspective: Juneteenth

I'm not going to pretend - not even for a minute - that I know everything there is to know about Juneteenth.  What I do know is from the 30,000-foot level, which, as a particular executive I used to deal with always said, was "plenty enough detail for the moment."  

Juneteenth commemorates the day that Union soldiers made it to Texas and informed the slaves there that they were free, that they had been emancipated by President Abraham Lincoln - nearly two years earlier. That should be enough to give one pause, don't you think? You're free, no longer a slave, and it took that long for you to find out? (You can learn more here, if you're interested, or really, just do an Internet search. There's plenty of information out there.)

As a middle-aged white lady, I've done some soul-searching on racism, and tolerance, and bias, and prejudice and yes, on white privilege, over the years, admittedly most often when we hear about a black man, a black child, a black young adult, being killed by a white man in a police officer's uniform. I've talked about some of that in this blog, in the past, and I'm not proud of some of the posts I've written - because I can see my privilege showing, like a slip hanging below the hem of my dress back in the day. 

• I was too eager to see both sides of the story, and not hold both sides equally accountable. 
• I was quicker to judge one side and feel myself being dragged kicking and screaming towards a more balanced position, by the time I got to the last paragraph where I'd throw up my hands and wish for something better
• I would not commit to doing anything to make me better, to make things better, even in my own little circle, much less in the larger scheme of things.

I was - I am - a middle-aged white lady.  And until I went back and read some of my old posts, I didn't realize how much of a one I was.  Which is funny - curious/interesting/hmm... funny, not haha/laugh out loud funny, because I know I've talked about racism and bias and about trying to change my perceptions. I guess I just never put those posts here, or I have to think differently about how I tagged them.

Which brings me to the point of this: thinking differently. Challenging myself to think differently, or to at least think like the person I think I thought like, if that makes any sense at all?

A former co-worker sent me the information below. We've been discussing #BlackLivesMatter and racism and white privilege on social media lately. Most of the time we find common ground - sometimes it takes a bit - even though we have different perspectives. 

Her perspective includes being in the south, a black woman in a Mercedes with out-of-state-plates, driven by her black boyfriend, being on pins and needles as they were followed - for miles - by a white cop who only stopped following them when they crossed into another state. I will never have that experience - and she shouldn't have had it.

It's a simple list - only ten things - that white people can do to celebrate Juneteenth. 

Black and Brown people are calling on white people to stand with them and take action. They’ve been fighting too hard and too long. ​​​It made us think about what do we want white people to do to celebrate Juneteenth? 

10 Things We Want White People to Do to Celebrate Juneteenth

1. We want white people to deeply consider the wound of racism on the hearts of every Black American.

2. On Juneteenth we want white people to read, study Black history, Black poets, Black leaders, Black achievements.

3. We want white people to do things about racism as readily as they do things for their own children.

4. We want white people to make a list of resolutions, of promises, of vows about what will it take for them to use their power, their privilege, their platforms of power to give space to Black and Brown leaders.

5. We want them to find an accountability partner and make the list public of what actions they will take. They CAN do this on social media. A lot of those actions will be giving up privilege and making room for folks who they may not have noticed have no room at all.

6. We want white people to stop talking about how uncomfortable it is to talk about racism or police violence.

7. We want white people to stop being afraid of their own internalized white supremacy. I want them to search and look within at hard facts of thought and deed. Who cares about being comfortable? What about being true, brave and real instead?

8. Then we want white people to stop talking and listen to what needs to be done.

9. We want white people to plan on spending time in spaces with folks who are not like you.

10. We want white people to hold other white people accountable not on social media, instead with measured voices that call folks in to look and wrestle – to change. We are interested in courageous conversations, in hearing folks out and in allowing themselves to feel terrible and to let that feeling be a crucible for change.

I've read the list more than once, and I will continue to read it, to find my place in it, starting at the top and working my way to the bottom. Because I can do more than just find the posts that I thought I wrote that describe the me I am today, not the me I was seven or six or five years ago. 

And if I find I'm not the person I think I am today - or, even if I am the person I think I am - I have a path forward. Not just for today, on Juneteenth , but for tomorrow and the day after and the days, weeks, months and years after that.  

I'll still be a middle-aged white lady, informed by my experiences, but I'll be a better one, I hope. 

Quick Takes (v52): Everybody's Talking

Quick Takes

We know, of course, that not all comments on social media are sincere; some are, certainly, but others are simply meant to anger, or to rile people up, or just to allow someone to be obnoxious.

Here in my neck of the woods, there's been a plan floated by a local businessman to paint Black Lives Matter, similar to how this has been done in DC and other cities, on a two-block section of one of the streets downtown. Currently, the plan is to paint the 'symbol of unity' on Friday, as part of the recognition of Juneteenth.  Local media pages are pushing the news, and the comments are about as one might expect.

Here's a sampling from a couple of different Facebook posts.

I love they are putting Blue Lives Matter all over everything glad (the) city is working with the police  Thank You!!!!!!

Amid COVID-19, they're still holding Juneteenth, but they take away Taste of Syracuse and other festivals because of this? Um okay.... Unfair, can anyone say that?  

 It's all about pressure, if you don't give in the the BLM they trash the place...again. 

Unfair

I don't endorse terrorist groups. 

 Will it be permanent or just part of the celebration? Many people use and prefer the term ALL LIVES MATTER so this isn't really a symbol of unity.

Only racist people use and prefer all lives matter.

Not even close to true.  A very racist and divisive statement. Please join us in the 21st century.

So, what you're saying is that ALL LIVES which includes black lives don't matter. Maybe you're racist.

I'm not 100% white and I believe all lives matter...matter of fact I come from a multicultural family... For people to continuously use the term 'white privilege' when one states their opinion and feelings that they believe every cultural background's lives are important, itself is a racist statement.

Well, until black lives matter, then all lives do not matter, unless you don't count black people as people.

Great choice, Syracuse! Absolutely the symbol of unity should be painted instead of BLM.

How equal is that pray tell as I see it it's one sided.

The media is taking all of this for a ride!!! 

How is this painting 'unity.' If it was unity it would be ALL lives matter. We all matter. One race. The human race! 

I would like to lay a couple strips of rubber across that saying.

 Proud to see this happening!

So glad to hear they will be painting the American flag.

Who's paying for this, the City?

Maybe the rest of us need to get together and pain on the roads and highways with all lives matter.

Who's symbol of unity is that? It symbolizes a further divide. 

 All lives matter regardless of color or occupation.

That's not unity. That is graffiti at best and endorsement of a terrorist group at worst.

BLM is a movement not a group.

It's nice to see this.

That needs to be paved over. 

Yup acid needs to be spilled on the street right there

Because painting the road solves all of life's problems. Ignorant!!!

Only paint what the woke want.

Sure let's bring segregation back. 

Give them paint to paint their houses!! Now there's something ambitious!

Why?

Because black lives matter just as much as white lives and cop lives.

And who is paying for this to be done? Taxpayers??

So, defacing the road is not criminal activity. I guess I'm going to paint on City Hall too. A big penis because they are allowing dick moves haha

They should use black paint.

This needs to end ASAP!!! Get the guards! 

How about a mural or painting for missing children next to it?

Does no one see this entire black lives matter  poor me movement hypocritical and racist? I guess it's do as I say and not as I do. 

But the road is already black. Blacktop matters.

Put it in front of Planned Parenthood .... that's where lots of black lives are taken

Every life matters so sick of all about black people. FYI 90% of black people. It's insane. It should be ALL Lives matter.

So ridiculous, everyone is too afraid to say this is wrong.

We better get this country back quick or it's gone. Stop pandering to the liberal Democrats. 

So, what do you think? Are these comments:

• Sincere
• Meant to rile people up
• Meant to make people angry
• Meant to be obnoxious

I'm curious; are others seeing these kinds of comments on similar posts? I'd love to know what it looks like where you are.

Wondering on Wednesday (v208)

Ready... Set... Wonder!

I don't even know where to start tonight's wondering. Or maybe, it's that I don't know where to stop wondering, so that I can put thoughts on paper. I'll give it a try.

Earlier today, I did some quiet, seething, emotionally draining Ranting and Raving about my particular white privilege, and how that compares to the inhumanity and lack of privilege experienced by blacks and other people of color in America. 

I honestly wonder if anyone will read that, and see themselves or their friends or their children and the sketchy or borderline things they got away with, and wonder why others don't get away with the same things? 

And I wonder whether people will think twice about the victim-blaming (because people who die worse than dogs under the knee or in a chokehold or by the bullet in the back or the front from a police officer's gun are victims, not criminals guilty of capital crimes) and maybe try and picture themselves in that person's shoes, and try and tell themselves it's OK? 

And I wonder what it must be like, for example, to be these guys, entrepreneurs working out in the gym in their key-access-only building, only to be challenged whether they belong there by a white guy?  Or to be a black man who likes to jog?  Here's what James Ravenell II, the founder of Black Runners Connection, had to say about his preferred "meditation" in this day and in this time. 

I know, unfortunately, that my blackness represents a threat to many people... we don't have the benefit of people thinking that we're just doing a normal thing... I can't really remember a time where I was not thinking about myself as a potential threat in the minds of other people.... We are all exhausted. We just want to live. We're not thinking about doing anything to anyone. Our blackness, it's not a threat to anyone but here we are, again and again and again. 

Think about that... Wonder about having that be your life, and tell me you'd be OK with that. Wait - no, don't tell me you'd be OK with that, tell me how that makes you feel about yourself, and how you feel about people who make you feel like that - because I have no intuitive understanding of what that feels like. I've never had to have any understanding, intuitive or otherwise, of what that feels like.

And challenge yourself about how you might be contributing to that, by your actions or your inaction, and wonder how you might do things differently...

I can't help wondering about this incident, either.  Steven Aucoin, a (now former) police officer in Kaplan, LA posted comments on a Facebook live feed lamenting the fact that the coronavirus didn't kill enough black people. According to the article linked above,

Aucoin’s comments, which were shown in a screenshot of the live stream, were in response to another user who described the coronavirus as the “virus that was created to kill all the BLACKS is death.” The officer clearly responded with two statements, “Well it didn’t work.” And directly under that comment he then said, “How unfortunate.”

He was fired, Aucoin was, for making comments that were "not suitable for a police officer to put up on Facebook," said Chief Joshua Hardy. And, "the department is moving forward and making sure this will never happen again" and the social media policy has been updated and officers have been notified about that.

But here's something else Chief Hardy said.

We're held to a higher standard than normal civilians, so you got to watch what you do, you got to watch what you say. You can't just go and post anything you want on social media.

What?  Huh?

What about "Officer Aucoin's comments are unacceptable for someone who is paid to protect and serve the residents of Kaplan, and we cannot and will not have someone on our police force who espouses those views." Where's that statement? Nowhere to be found, it seems - just don't post the online. What on earth is the 'higher standard" they're being held to, I wonder?

More than anything, I wonder if this will ever stop, or if we'll just continue to be this America?

Ranting and Raving (v6): If You Think This is OK...

I want to scream.

We watch another heartbreaking video of a black man being killed, having the life squeezed out of him under the knee of a white police officer, and we watch the comments coming in saying all of the standard stuff - if he hadn't resisted, if he hadn't have done something illegal, if he had only listened to the police, if he only... if he only... if he if he if he if he if he only...

If you think this is all the fault of George Floyd - say his name, say it out loud - George Floyd - if you think this is HIS fault, if only he hadn't (fill in the blank), if only he had (fill in the blank), then you think these things are OK, too.

• Me, dying under the knee of a police officer, for shoplifting a $5 ring from a gift shop on a school trip in the 7th grade (peer pressure is a wonderful thing, isn't it?); 
• Me, being shot in the back by a police officer, for running (along with several friends) when we were discovered under-aged drinking on a nature trail in the woods behind an elementary school;
• Me, being shot repeatedly in the chest after stumbling arm-in-arm with the "'love of my life that week" off a bench and towards a police officer who was yelling at us for smoking pot and violating the open container law in a Wisconsin park after hours? (And is a goat-skin bag an even an open container?) 

And yet, here I am, decades later. 

Still here. 

Still living. 

Still breathing. 

Still remembering these and countless other crazy things I did that I'll likely never share. 

Is it because I'm lucky that I didn't run into any of the police officers who have been involved in - and most, absolved of - the murders of black men? 

Maybe; obviously, every black man who has an encounter with the police does not die as a result of the interaction. Only way too many of them do.

But the other reason I'm still here, still living, still breathing, still remembering, is because I am a white female, not a black man. Of that, I have absolutely NO doubt. 

I have the privilege of being allowed to live, when I commit minor violations of the law. 

A significant number of people - fellow citizens, friends, neighbors, acquaintances, and total strangers don't have that privilege.

George Floyd did not have that privilege. Eric Garner did not have that privilege. Philando Castile did not have that privilege. Amadou Diallo did not have that privilege. And dozens and dozens of other black men - and a lesser number of black women - did not have that privilege, and are dead because of it. 

They are dead because capital punishment is handed out not by a court of law, but by police officers. 

If you think it's OK that George Floyd and the others are dead at the hands of the police, you can't think it's OK that I'm still here. 

If you think it's OK that I'm still here, then you can't think it's OK that George Floyd and the others aren't. 

You can't have it both ways: Wish me dead, or be angry that they are.